silently, a flower blooms
by Aly Summerset
Summary: A flower-shop sits at the Edge of Paradise, and a solitary florist has encounters. [The One Piece Flowershop AU nobody asked for.]
**Disclaimer: I obviously don't own One Piece, but just love the characters to bits. Thank Oda for them.**

 **A/N: Again I wanted to practice my writing. As SN inspires me a lot, the first two chapters will be about them, while I'll practice with the other SH characters and other characters outside of them for the next chapters. I have ideas already but I would really love suggestions from readers regarding a modern AU, i.e. what are your head canon jobs for them and situations etc. Mostly going to be a series of unrelated romance one-shots (aka will be a playground for my ships) with the occasional friendship fics thrown in. I hope I can make this work. Read and Review please!**

* * *

 ** _sunflowers and bluebells_**

From Grand Line Central Station, you can take the Red Line to Paradise. So named because of what it was to the inhabitants there. Paradise was two stops away from the busy metropolis that was the New World, and Grand Line Central Station was what connected the two. From Paradise you had the choice of taking the East, West, North, or South lines and thus Paradise was the axis, the center of the world so to speak, with all manner of people going there to stay, but more often was a quick side trip before people moved on to the city of promise.

It is at the Edge of Paradise where our story begins, so named because; well whoever named it was probably too lazy to think up of a cooler name. Water 7 station was often peaceful, quiet with the exception of the occasional faint noise of the choo-choo of an incoming or outgoing train. A passenger will alight onto the platform and if he is feeling peckish may chance to have a bite to eat at the Spider Café before taking a ride into the heart of the city.

At the other side though, he will find a solitary building, quite old in a beautiful, fragile sort of way. If he was feeling curious he might visit the building and find that it is in fact three separate stores, and conclude that they were tourist shops. While the first and the second do well in preserving the antique theme of the structure, the third is simply garish with loud colors and graffiti-style words spelling out ' _Lion Gang Champion_ ' splashed onto a signboard out front, along with samples of different designs of tattoos with their corresponding prices. The passenger might sweatdrop and instead inspect the other two; the first building seems to be selling antique old records, and while the passenger has some interest in browsing the selection hoping to chance upon a rare find in the same way that you might coincidentally meet a lady's gaze in the crowd and decide that she was the one, the door is definitely locked and that is as good a 'closed' sign as any. Disappointed, but still curious his gaze transfers to the store sandwiched in between. It is a flower shop, though unlike any he's seen before. The shop doesn't bear a name like ' _Sweet Stems_ ' or ' _Beautiful Blossoms_ ' or any other similarly quaint name which brings to mind the image of fairies and fluff. The windows don't display flowers and instead are emblazoned with the words 'Ohara' (that's probably an r) and 'Flowers' in large faded Gothic script. The border has stylized hands which mimic the shapes of leaves and flowers and gossamer webs. The door is a deep plum color, with a silver bell attached above. Intrigued, and hoping that the shop is open because he hopes he can find what he is looking for here, he opens the door and the silver bell tinkles.

* * *

The flower shop keeper wasn't born in Paradise. She and her mother had originally come from the West. She doesn't know whether to call Paradise a big small town or a small big town. It was large enough for exciting things to happen every day, but at the same time seemed small in a way that everyone seemed to know everybody here.

Except for her.

It wasn't that the town wasn't welcoming nor was she anti-social. It was just that she rarely went into town as she made her residence above her flower shop, and even then wasn't one to mingle, even during the town festivals and get-togethers. Nico Robin saw people as characters with their own stories, and loved to observe them, especially the people who by fate came to the Edge of Paradise and into her flower shop.

* * *

As the bell tinkles and the door opens, Robin observes the new visitor. Fair blond hair crowns a handsome face though, it is admittedly a face with _ah_ , unique features. The male walks with a slight slouch, and a confident gait. His relaxed stance belies a lean strength, and as he lights his cigarette Robin makes her own conclusions just as she usually does for every customer. It's a game she likes to play. Whatever her preconceived notions, however, about the cool customer is shattered though with the first words he utters.

"I am indeed blessed to be in the presence of a beautiful mademoiselle."

Good thing that Robin had a practiced poker face, and wait was he kneeling? And did he now just torpedo his way to where she was?

"May I have the name of this dark angel?" He says it accompanied by a light bow.

"Nico Robin," she responds stoically, although internally amused.

"Ah, such a cool name is fitting for a mature beauty like you! I was hoping you would be able to help me, Robin-chan."

He was being quite familiar for a first meeting, though she wasn't particularly perturbed. "How may I help you Mr. Customer?"

"No need to be informal. My name is Sanji, at your service, Robin-chan."

And that was the start of a forty-five minute conversation from what was once a simple query. She guessed that he was perhaps a cook as she could detect the strong smell of spices and seafood from him despite the strong aroma of the flowers surrounding them. When she pointed that out to him, he laughingly explained that he was a cook at a restaurant called the _Baratie_ and the he was here to visit his college roommate which morphed into the story of how said college roommate tricked him with a thorn less blue rose to give to his lady love in exchange for a free feast for the lady love of _his_ college roommate, which then morphed into the story of how he proudly presented the aforementioned rose to aforementioned lady love when it started raining and he was left pathetically with a mushy mess of white petals and blue paint and no lady love.

"I mean I should have guessed he was lying. Usopp lies 70% of the time, but being the sappy romantic that I was, of course I believed him. The only one of its kind, a blue rose, perfectly fitting for my darling Nami-san, also one of a kind," he says in a dreamy sort of way. To this, Robin only nods and lets him continue to wax poetic. It's an interesting way to spend the afternoon.

"But then again, a rose is too ordinary for someone like Nami-san. A rose is feminine and dainty, and while I wouldn't dream of saying Nami-san wasn't feminine, her passion and energy are what I love most about her. And that's where I need your help Robin-chan. Can you give me any idea of what to give her?"

Robin contemplates for a while before answering, "Is she your girlfriend cook-san?"

"Ah no, no. My goddess has yet to accept my unworthy self. Even so, I will persevere to win her affections."

"Hmm," a romantic such as himself might appreciate what she was going to say next, "flowers have a language of their own, cook-san. Whatever you want to say which cannot be expressed in words, you can communicate through flowers."

He ponders on her words, as she continues to say, "This flower for example," she gestures to the flower nearest to them, "can mean 'I see the sunshine in your smile.'"

"I see!" and he smiles fully, and it transforms his face in a way that it turns him younger despite the image of the cigarette still present in between his lips. "That's absolutely perfect Robin-chan!"

Cook-san decided to buy the tall sunflower, but as she goes to clip it, he says instead to keep it in the pot. He hopes that she might look at the petals and think of him as he thinks they match his hair, and hopes that she grows it just as he dreams of their own love growing. While his face as says these thoughts out loud can be called nothing but foolish, her romantic notions somehow warm her heart.

As he leaves with a bit of a skip in his step and a final adieu of "Robin-chan~", she can't help but unconsciously smile at the fortunate encounter, (even if this is likely the first and last time they will meet.)

* * *

It turns out Robin was wrong (just as she was about her first impression of him). Cook-san came back the week after with handcrafted pastries he made himself as thanks for her wonderful advice. Robin finds herself thinking that he had no need to do so really since he paid for the flower after all, but the coffee (real beans grounded and brewed by him of course) he brings with him is _divine_ so she chooses not to refuse. He is ecstatic as he shares the story of how his Nami-san smiled slightly at the sight of the flower (after which she bossed him to get her another order of orange sherbet), while Robin tells him, 'that's great cook-san.'

And so an unlikely friendship blossoms between the solitary flower shop owner and the chef of love. He usually came by within the space of three or four weeks. Robin heard about Nami-san so often that she felt that they were good friends despite not yet personally meeting the girl, though Sanji swore that he'd bring her as soon as they were together and there was time in Nami-san's busy schedule. No matter how much it seemed like he was being taken advantage of by her, Sanji adored the strong-willed woman, and every time he visited the flower shop there was a smile on his face and a story to share.

However five months since meeting him, and one year of courting Nami-san, it seemed that he was ready to give up on her since it seemed like she had no interest at all in his proclamations of love. He still visited her, though not to buy flowers anymore, but instead share his woes bringing along dark roast as his payment in exchange for a ready ear. Robin was tempted to tell him that he had no need to pay her, since by now she already considered him her friend, but the taste of good coffee overrode her good conscience.

She sighs, wanting to see again the face of young love which she saw when she met him but alas just as she thought, we are all at the mercy of the cynicism and reality of the world. Never had she wished more to be proven wrong.

* * *

Two weeks after officially declaring he'd given up on Nami-san (though he still continued to pine), the silver bell tinkles, and Sanji enters the store, bearing croissants, a large red handprint on his cheek (on the side where his eye is visible), and the largest damn (to borrow his phrase) grin on his face to date. If the two latter facts seemed to be incongruous, don't worry Robin's as confused as we are.

"Robin-chan! Today's the shitty best!" He exclaims as he set the croissants (and coffee) on the counter. "Also I need a bouquet of bluebells to go please."

"Whatever for?" She asks though she knows the answer. Sanji has only ever bought flowers for Nami-san since as she knows she doesn't have a female role-model nor positive influence in his life. He was raised by his foster father and roomed with the other chefs, all males in a dormitory before moving out and living with Usopp.

"Because I made Nami-san angry of course!" At her confused look, Sanji decided that he should probably explain why and how the day he made Nami-san angry became the best day of his life thus far.

"Well you remember how I said I'd give up on Nami-san a few weeks before?" At this, Robin nods. "I mean we could still be friends right? I made my decision, and though it was difficult, a man should stick to his resolve. So I decided that the best way to get over Nami-san was to meet someone new. I met this flamenco dancer named Violet at a campus party, and before I knew it we were flirting and dancing, and maybe I was a little tipsy because I sort of stumbled into her, and our faces were so close, and I could've kissed her-"

"What happened?"

Sanji sighs and scrubs at his golden hair, "I didn't kiss her Robin-chan. Her amber eyes reminded me too much of Nami-san's. I asked for a kiss on my cheek instead. And then," here his eyes light up as he begins to talk more animatedly, "Nami-san was there. She was also a bit tipsy I think, which was rare. I think that's the reason why she did what she did since she usually prides herself on her self-control."

"Which was?" Robin didn't mind prompting him, since he seemed to be choosing his words carefully.

"She slapped me. She slapped me so hard that the mark is still there, and left the party fuming. Do you know what this means Robin-chan?!"

"I haven't the faintest idea", she said amused while trying to hide the small smile on her face with her hand.

"It means I still have a chance! And while a man should not abandon his principles, a true man will always forgive a woman's small untruths."

"I see cook-san," she chuckled as she wrapped the bouquet in blue and white gauze, "Why bluebells then if I might ask?"

A small blush graced his features then as he answered her, "I became interested in the language of flowers after you told me about them Robin-chan. It's an apology, and a representation of my truest self whenever I find myself in her presence."

"Good choice." Robin tucked in a small card, free of charge for him to write his heart's desire. Though human beings were clumsy with words, and had to rely on flowers in the past, there were times where words were essential to say what needed to be said. "So what's your plan now Sanji?"

"First, I'm going to grovel, and then," Ah there was that face that she was looking for. "I'm going to damn well win the woman of my dreams."

As Robin waves goodbye to him, she sits in her flower shop eagerly awaiting the next encounter.


End file.
